


body work

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: FE3H Kinkmeme, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Minor Violence, No Underage Sex, Overstimulation, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Secret Relationship, Sparring as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: felix hates that he loves to fight the boar.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66
Collections: Anonymous





	body work

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FE3H Kmeme prompt: "Sparring as Foreplay."  
> Originally posted to Dreamwidth, edited and re-uploaded to AO3.
> 
> Please note: both characters are of age.

The breath is punched out of Felix as he slams hard into the training ground floor with a grimace, sword knocked clean from his hands and skidding across the stone tiles. Dammit.

A shadow falls over him as a tall figure blocks the dimming light of the afternoon sun, the blunt tip of a training lance pointed at his face.

"My point," Dimitri says, drawing the weapon away with the smallest of grins. Predictably, he offers Felix his hand in a gesture of good sportsmanship, and, equally as predictable, Felix slaps it away with a scowl.

"Again," Felix responds through gritted teeth. He shoves himself to his feet, the knees of his trousers light with powder and dirt. He dusts them off, dusts off his backside as well and retrieves his sword.

He takes a few experimental swings, and rolls his shoulders against the sting he knows he's going to feel in his muscles by tomorrow morning. Damn Dimitri and his brutish strength. He may look at Felix and the others with all soft smiles and quiet charm, but Felix knows the truth of him beyond that princely façade of his and he'll coax it out of him one way or another so everyone else will see it too.

"Ready for more?" Dimitri's tone is light, mildly teasing in a way that sets Felix on edge. He casually twirls his lance in preparation as Felix takes a fighting stance.

"I can do this all day, boar," he sneers, as they circle each other once more. His mind races a mile a minute, watching him. He prowls less like a man and more like a big cat stalking its prey, gaze sharp and focused, mirroring Felix's own. Born and raised to hunt, to fight, the similarities between them (despite Felix's best efforts) are hard to ignore. Felix was raised for Dimitri, he was raised to protect and fight alongside his future king. It's no wonder they're so alike.

It's moments like these Felix wonders, however, if it is _he_ that needs to be protected from Dimitri instead.

Felix strikes first, dekes to the right and swoops in from the left, sweeping his sword in an upwards arc and coming in close before Dimitri has a chance to do more than bring down his lance to block it. His arms shake from the impact that travels all the way up from his hands to his shoulders. They've gone at this countless times, but the thrill of a good fight constantly draws him back into the orbit of his prince, who is one of few worthy opponents in this goddess forsaken monastery, and the only one to make his heart pound like the incessant rhythm of a drum by mere proximity alone.

He jumps back, meets Dimitri blow for blow, with vicious swipes of his training sword and a frantic type of energy he knows he cannot easily sustain. He's desperate for the win, desperate to wear down Dimitri's overwhelming endurance and catch him when he's most vulnerable.

Dimitri side steps him and—

_There._

_An opening!_ he thinks gleefully, knocking Dimitri off balance when he stumbles, and kicking him down. He stands over him triumphantly and presses a foot to the breast of his uniform, eyes and hair wild as he glares at him. Dimitri's chest heaves beneath his boot, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looks surprised, chuckling as he concedes the win to Felix.

"Yours this time," he says. "The professor has taught you well, Felix."

Felix wants to punch the stupid smile off his face at that. "Hmph. Flattery will get you nowhere," he dismisses with disdain. "Get up, I'm not finished with you yet."

Felix moves off of him, narrows his eyes as Dimitri gets to his feet. Felix is tired. The ache of long hours of training is beginning to settle into his bones and he's having trouble standing on his feet. He'll have bruises in places he wasn't aware he _could_ bruise when this is all over. Not that he would let this show as his pride won't allow it. Dimitri has a keen eye for weakness in others (but not himself) which makes him so dangerous in battle. Felix knows how to read him, but Dimitri can read him, too, and this is why he knows never to underestimate this beast of a man.

They go again and again. Felix feels drunk, the adrenaline coursing through his veins the only thing preventing him collapsing. But even he has his limits.

Somewhere along the way they lose their weapons - having broken them (Dimitri) or thrown them away (Felix) and resort to using their fists to grapple instead.

A glancing blow splits open Dimitri's cheek, a well timed fist smashes into Felix's nose with an awful crunch and they stumble back from each other. Dimitri spits out blood, Felix smears his across a white sleeve and wonders if he really fucking broke his nose this time. Sweat slicks his entire body, soaking through his uniform uncomfortably, but he refuses to take it off.

Dimitri on the other hand, throws down his gauntlets, unclasps his cloak and strips off the top half of his uniform. Felix is equally as furious as he is aroused by the sight of taut muscles that glean in sweat and flex as Dimitri steps over the pile and prepares to strike again. Felix can see the marks he left on the man amid old scars, and wants to press his fingers into the bruises and watch him hiss and snarl when he does, wants Dimitri to explore the marks on Felix's own skin with those strong hands of his, and wants him to bury himself deep into Felix and _rip him apart._

He wants it and he hates Dimitri (and himself) for it, but If he's going to admit defeat to the boar, he wants Dimitri to _earn_ it first. 

As their final bout begins, Felix realizes he's going to lose even before Dimitri takes the first swing. His movements are sluggish, his arms too heavy to lift, and the sweat that drips into his eyes burns them sharply, making it hard to see. In a moment of carelessness and weakness, he wipes at them with his unbloodied sleeve and that's when Dimitri makes his move, tackling him to the ground and pinning him by his arms with his knees.

_Fuck._

Initially, Felix weakly resists, attempts to buck him off with his hips because his legs are no longer responding to any of his commands. He's hard beneath his breeches but doesn't care that Dimitri can feel it.

 _Fuck it,_ he decides _, let him._

He gives up the struggle and lies back against the stone; defeated and angry and painfully aroused.

Dimitri sits back and drags a hand through his short hair, pushing sweaty blond locks from his forehead. There's blood caked on his cheek, the beginnings of a bruise under his left eye and on his chest from where Felix kicked him. Felix stares at him, breathing hard, dazedly thinking about how devastating he will be when he eventually grows into his looks; a handsome, stalwart but soft-hearted fool in the service of his people just like his father was. And Felix will be there beside him, whether he likes it or not, because there is no escaping this man no matter where he tries to run.

"Looks like I win this time," the boar prince says, placing his hands on either side of Felix's head. Sweat rolls down his neck and chest, and he's so, _so_ close that Felix can smell the musk of him. _Animal,_ Felix thinks _._ _Beast_.

He can't help the flush that paints his face. He turns his head away from those prying blue eyes that see into him, see through him like glass. He can barely stand to look at him.

"You got lucky this time. Next time - next time I'll…" his voice tapers off, the hot press of blunt fingers touching his chin as Dimitri redirects his face back towards him. He stubbornly refuses eye contact, even as Dimitri's other hand catches in the long tresses of his dark hair that spill out from his bun.

"Of course."

Dimitri spends a few moments simply carding his fingers through Felix's hair. His steady breath irks Felix, the oppressive heat and weight of his body makes him squirm, but Felix hasn't the energy to throw him off. He doesn't know why the man is stalling.

"Saints, what exactly are you waiting for, boar?" He mutters. "You won. Claim your fucking prize already."

Something dark flashes through Dimitri's eyes at that, and the grip in his hair goes from gentle to tight, hair snaring around Dimitri's fingers as he _pulls._ Felix hisses, even as his dick throbs in response. 

He doesn't cry out.

He won't cry out.

He won't give him that satisfaction.

Not yet.

"My prize…" he repeats through a hooded gaze. "Yes… I suppose I should, shouldn't I?"

He slides down just enough to slot their hips together and Felix can feel the state of Dimitri's arousal through his uniform, the swell of it rubbing against him so deliciously he can't help but moan. He grinds down hard against Felix, his mouth twisting into a horrible smirk that leaves Felix feeling breathless and lightheaded when he catches a glimpse of it.

Goddess does he fucking hate what this man does to him.

"I won't ask again," says Felix, in a voice hardly above a whisper. 

When Dimitri kisses him, open mouthed and brutal he gives as good as he gets, biting and sucking on bruised and bloodied lips, the taste of iron both disgusting and addictive as it fills his mouth. His tongue slides between Felix's teeth, tasting him as the grip on his chin remains tight and unyielding.

This happens far more often than it should, he thinks, gasping when Dimitri parts from him and rips open the front of Felix's shirt. 

"Boar!" He protests in disbelief. "Why did you -" 

" _Hush,_ " he growls.

Felix bares his throat as he tugs on his hair to expose the long column of his neck, and Dimitri immediately latches onto that smooth, unblemished skin. He tongues off the sweat, sucks bruises into his neck and collar before moving further down his chest. His teeth catch on Felix's nipples, devouring them until they're red and puffy and sore and Felix has to shove his head away because it becomes _too much._

"Fuck! No more, you brute," he snarls, pulling Dimitri by the short hairs at the back of his head. Dimitri resists, a manic hunger blowing his pupils wide. It's the same look he gets when he's lost amidst the heat of battle, and one that terrifies Felix because he can't resist it when it's trained on him like this. "I said _stop._ Don't you listen?"

"You want this," he says in lieu of a real reply. He bares his teeth in an ugly smile, hands squeezing Felix's pecs to the point where it hurts. "You're so hard right now, Felix. I can feel you, don't try to hide it from me, you _can't._ " He punctuates this with another roll of his hips that has Felix arching off the ground. He releases Dimitri's hair, and before he knows what's happening Dimitri tears off Felix's pants and underclothes as well revealing the height of his arousal; the material yielding easily is a testament to his inhuman nature and strength.

 _Animal_.

 _Beast_.

 **_Boar_**.

 _That's it,_ Felix thinks, _show yourself_.

Dimitri continues his descent down his chest and over the muscles of his stomach, and Felix doesn't know where to put his hands. His hair? His shoulders? He doesn't want to touch him per se, but -

But Dimitri makes the decision for him by flipping him over onto his stomach, Felix's cock dragging painfully against the stone flooring as it oozes precome everywhere. Then he yanks Felix up by his hips so his ass is in the air, and Felix's face burns with the shame of it.

He's right of course. He does want this. He's wanted it since he first challenged him. He expected the win, but a part of him always wanted to lose.

"You fucking animal," he groans, bracing himself on his forearms as he hears the whisper of cloth and the clinking of a belt from behind him. "You're going to do this right here where anyone could see us?"

"Let them see," Dimitri says. By the sounds of it he's stroking his cock in preparation, the wet slide of his hand the only thing Felix can focus on as his heart thuds loudly against his rib cage and in his ears. "Let them know you're mine."

"Yours…?" he whispers. "Fuck you. I don't belong to anyone but myself."

Dimitri shoves his face to the ground by the back of his neck. He slips his cock between Felix's thighs, the head bumping against the underside of Felix's own, and Felix's legs squeeze around it automatically. Saints, he's so big, he wants him stuffed inside him instead of this, but he doesn't think he can handle it without being prepared, and they're both too far gone for that.

"You're wrong. You're _mine,_ " he breathes, nails dragging over Felix's sides, peeling away the tatters of his shirt. "You'd never let anyone else do this to you. You claim you know me so well, Felix but how easily you forget I can say the same of you..."

He thrusts between Felix's legs without warning, with a groan that sends shivers down the swordsman's spine. As he reaches around to grab Felix's dick by the shaft, he uses his other hand to dig his nails into his hip as he begins to fuck his thighs, hips slapping so hard against Felix that it pitches him forward and his arms and knees skim painfully across the stone.

"Fuck! Dimi – boar, _boar, watch what you're doing!_ "

But he's not listening.

Felix braces himself.

Again and again he swings his hips without ever stopping or slowing. Even as he jerks Felix off, his pace never ceases. It's rough. It's fast. It's torture the way he holds him so tightly, sliding over his sensitive cock with callused fingers that make him shake and moan. Dimitri's dick putting pressure on his taint at the same time.

"Ah - ah - _ah, fuck!"_

And it's not long before Felix is sobbing into his arms as he messily comes all over himself and the stone floor. His legs quiver with the force of it, toes curling as he tries to catch his breath and ride out the wave of it. 

Of course, he should have expected he couldn't.

Dimitri refuses to relent, continuously tugging Felix's dick quickly and harshly as he pulls more and more sounds from his mouth, whispering nonsense into Felix's ear that he can't listen to because his dick is on fire.

Whatever it is he's saying, he doesn't care.

He's overstimulated to the point of agony and tears, thrashing under Dimitri's touch in a futile effort to scramble away and just fucking _breathe_.

Felix is strong, but Dimitri is stronger. 

Within minutes he rips another orgasm from him and Felix howls. His thighs flex around the thick cock sliding between them in retribution but it doesn't seem to phase Dimitri as much as he hopes. It's weaker this time, almost dry, and Felix isn't sure if he can come again if this continues.

He grabs Dimitri's wrist and squeezes it, shaking his head against his arm. "No more," he moans helplessly. His hips buck instinctively against Dimitri's, chasing a sensation he knows he shouldn't. "No more _,"_ he says again. "I _can't… I can't."_

At last, Dimitri shows mercy and releases him. His hand joins the other on Felix's hips, and Felix expects to see hand prints marring his skin for days after this. He'll have to be careful to hide them from the others.

Dimitri leans across his back as he thrusts against him, his teeth finding the junction between Felix's neck and shoulder. He bites down. Hard. Felix yelps in surprise, and it's all that it takes for Dimitri to finally let go.

Felix feels him pull out from between his legs, briefly confused until wet warmth spatters his thighs and his back as Dimitri comes on him with a soft groan of Felix's name.

"Felix, oh, Felix," he murmurs, panting. "You're so good. So very good for me…"

He slumps forward, resting his forehead between Felix's shoulder blades, nuzzling and pressing gentle kisses to his spine.

"Yeah…" Felix sighs, exhausted. They stay this way until they cool off, Dimitri stroking Felix's stomach until he slowly pulls away. Dimitri cleans his backside, presumably with Felix's discarded uniform. He lets him.

This time when it's offered, he takes Dimitri's hand to help him into a seated position. His clothes are destroyed, and with the sun going down it's starting to get cold. Once he's returned to his senses and the afterglow has worn off, he looks down at the state of himself in disgust. "Look what you've done," he scowls. "I can't walk back like this. What if someone sees me?"

Satiated, Dimitri is back to his usual self as he tucks himself back into his trousers like nothing had happened. He doesn't look worried at all. Felix is pissed, even with how fucked out he is.

"It's all right," he says pleasantly. "You may wear my shirt. It should be long enough to cover you."

Felix scoffs and folds his arms over himself as if to hide his modesty. Unfortunately, he has no other choice but to do just that.

"Fine," he snaps. "Give it here." 


End file.
